Three Line Tales: Enough #3LineTales #poetry #amwriting


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales three weeks ago.

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Credit: Scott Umstattd via UnSplash

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It was a fine meal until Mark threw his cutlery down shouting,”I’ve had enough.” I didn’t know what he meant and didn’t think we had marriage problems as we had a date night each week, talked in the mornings and evenings, and throughout text messages all day. We’d been married ten years and my eyes teared up at Mark’s unexpected outburst; he brushed a tear from my cheek and whispered, “I’m not done with you silly, just your cooking.”

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©Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved.

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Three Line Tales: Poem – Synchronicity – “Worth Teeth” #amwriting #poetry #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales.

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Credit: Carson Arias via UnSplash

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It’s called a Lego graveyard,

A container full of beheaded,

Small men —

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A variety of pleasant looks,

Others with face’s of ire,

 No heads.

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The girl and boy they build fast,

Tear bodies from heads not knowing, 

Bad thoughts. 

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A pile of joy for building kids, 

A sight of horror for parents;

Gold teeth. 

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As Nazi’s removed in death camps, 

Nothing dulls pain of Jewish soul; just —

Worth teeth. 

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A few years ago I saw an excellent movie made by and including George Clooney and some of the regular actors found in his movies — Matt Dameon (etc.) called The Monuments Men. “The film follows an Allied group from the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program that is given the task of finding and saving pieces of art and other culturally important items before Nazis destroy or steal them, during World War II (Wikipedia). 

One of the aspects of the film that overwhelmeingly struck me as awful was as these men went into underground mines and other places the Nazi’s hid priceless artwork, were barrels full of teeth with gold fillings that had been pulled from Jewish Concentration camp prisoners. This is just one mote terrible act of numerous actions done to Jewish prisoners slated to die by Nazis in death camps. Upon researching this, I found the practice by Nazi’s to be accurate even within the context of the movie.  I read that in some cases, the Nazi soldiers forced other prisoners to do this job form them and no pain numbing drugs or even alcohol was provided. 

As well, the movie is based on a fictitious novel but the story itself is based off of real life events that are to some extent historically accurate. In the film, these American men who reclaimed the art work left the gold filled teeth and of course that was the right thing to do. Anyways, in my warped mind, those barrels full of gold teeth fillings are what these lego heads reminded me of — sorry for the imagery! 

This article The Monuments Men (2014) compares the movie and the real life Monument’s men. It answers some interesting questions about WWII Nazi History and Hitler’s reasons behind stealing such a wealth of art.  

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reseved. 

Poetry: Silence, my Old friend


Sometimes I just need silence, it’s not an easy concept to explain — partly I’m an introvert — and partly it’s the fact that noise is wearing, can tare through your head in a pounding severe as hard rain on pavement; sharp and painful to your skin.
Sometimes I just need quiet because I do my best thinking in my head when you muse your questions out loud, it’s just the way I’m built and your brain was formed a different way… And when I was a little girl somebody told me that it was better to listen, to actually hear and comprehend the various foods on the speakers spread.
And sometimes I just like listening, to her the cadences of sound, to hear the up and hear the down, and understand what your telling me well before I make my peace — I’d like to give you the best advice because I’m weighing consequences and scenarios.
Other times, I like to say something smart — a witty thought– a word sharper than not; I used to be better at these retorts but these days I’m caught up in thought and weighing the conversation in my head on scales — these things I’ll remember and these things I’ll probably forget.
Sometimes I’m just use to silence — a long hot summer with many entrancing books, a family on vacation, a family at work, a dog who breathed her last before the dog days of summer began.
Silence is a funny thing, at times it can be utterly defeating and deafening, and I wish so hard for some conversation, to be around people and bask in a parade of voices delighted, bemused, upset, and hurried.
And sometimes silence is like a tear in a waterless desert. You never knew you had in you, what with being parched — obstructed by a harsh cacophony — you never knew you needed to cry — to be in a noiseless atmosphere — until that day, until water arrived; or until silence greeted you and flowed down your throat refreshing everything within you and bringing back life inside you.
If that analogy works, then you might understand silence.
That silence is completely necessary and quiet completely calming.
You might challenge the thought if you live for the rush of booming sound but some of you know silence and greet her like an old friend when she hushes you goodnight.
And when you find that the silence between you and your friend is a delicious moment you both understand, then you’ve truly understood silence, are restored by it’s gentle breath.
The quiet of the moment, the calm before the storm.